From Paris with Love
by Dadles
Summary: Jack's parents find out he's gay & toss him out onto the streets. Jack goes to Paris to start a new life, and LeMime takes him in. Jack finds a budding romance with LeMime and LeMime finds the one person who can break his curse for good...& falls in love.
1. Mimes Can Be Helpful

**Hello! It is me, Dadles, finally here to present the FIRST LeMimexJack fanfic EVER! I guarantee you'll love it. The reason for this pairing is because I am a rebel. Fanfiction doesn't have LeMime in the character lists, so just to be spiteful, I have created this lovable monstrosity that is SLASH. (Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTHING from Xiaolin Showdown!) So please, Read & Review!**

**Also, word of warning: There is slight OOC-ness and I'm not linking this story up to the actual events that happen in Xiaolin Showdown. So to all the hardcore fans out there, Jack may or may not actually have the specific Wu as written here, and I haven't linked it to any specific time period within the series. So. Continue!**

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><p><em>Chapter 1: Mimes can be helpful<em>

Jack sighed as he trudged along the streets of Paris. He had been thrown out of his house by his parents, turned away from the Temple, and chased away from Chase's evil fortress. Jack cursed his bad luck. How he wished that something in his life would go right, just once!

Here's how it was: he was alone and he was broke. He had no robots; they had all been smashed by the Xiaolins. He had barely any possessions; his parents wouldn't let him even pack before he left. The only things he had were the few things he had managed to stuff into his pockets before he was shoved out the door and tossed off the property.

Of the few valuables in his pockets, two were Wu; The Shroud of Shadows and The Falcon's Eye. With those two, he would be able to go to Showdowns, but really, how likely was it that he would win? He would've grabbed more, but it's not like The Monkey Staff would fit in his jacket.

At least he was able to snag the last of his pudding-cups. He only had three left out of the original five though. Thirty hours is a while to go without proper food.

_**SPLASH!**_ A passing car hurtled through a giant puddle at the side of the road, soaking Jack as the wave of muddy water washed over him.

"AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGHHHH! WHY ME?" he screamed, shaking his gloved fist at the driver disappearing in the distance. Groaning and trying to shake off the excess water, Jack squished onward in muddy misery.

Eventually, cold, hungry, and too tired to walk anymore, he sat down on the curb where he was. Looking up, he saw that he was right across the street from the cafe he'd been to only once before. Staring at it, his stomach rumbled at the memory of the many pastries lined up in the glass display center. The sweet aroma of freshly baked sweets, smothered in glaze, and delicately placed _just so_ on their individual plates. Jack's mouth began the water and his stomach shouted at him to eat something, _anything._

_"Dammit, stop thinking about it!"_ he shouted inwardly at himself. Jack crossed his arms and set them atop his knees, then placed his forehead down on top of his arms. He sat there, miserable, tired, and hungry, and he began to cry.

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><p>LeMime had watched the boy trudge up the street, sopping wet and dripping water everywhere. He had seemed familiar to him, but LeMime couldn't quite recall why the boy tugged at is memory banks.<p>

The boy flopped down on the curb on stared longingly at the cafe. LeMime stepped away from the window so as not to be seen, but he watched the familiar boy as he broke down and cried. A brief flash of memory restored itself in his mind, and LeMime received a quick, sharp image of the same blazing-haired boy sitting and sipping coffee in front of the shop, talking to a ghost. He remembered the fair skin and the indifferent look of distaste upon the boy's face as he conversed with the purple specter. And as he remembered, LeMime made a decision in his mind.

He sauntered over to the front counter and gave the woman working there a meaningful wink. She got the message (she was used to the mime's communicative antics), and she fixed up his usual dessert. The mime received free meals; he _did_, after all, own the cafe.

He looked across the street again and, on a whim, mimed peeling a banana to the woman at the counter. She sliced up a banana and fixed it into the dessert and returned it to him.

LeMime walked outside with it and crossed the street to the boy. Jack still had his head down, just barely getting started on the self-pitying tears. He couldn't hear LeMime approach; of course, the fact that it was LeMime in the first place could have had something to do with that. LeMime approached with caution, though, as he saw more clearly the subtle shaking of Jack's shoulders as he quietly cried.

Jack felt a light tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see a face he thought he'd forgotten: LeMime. At the same time, LeMime remembered the boy's name, recalling it after listening to that ghostly witch berate him for something or another. Jack Spicer. LeMime smiled a little, to try and comfort him. Although he couldn't quite remember all of the details of their encounter those two years ago (when he Tabigonged himself in the face with his mime-magic, he lost most of the memories pertaining to that day), LeMime remembered Jack and the affection he held for him upon first sight.

Jack did not smile. LeMime leaned down and offered the plate of dessert to Jack. He touched his hand with just a finger and before Jack could flinch away, he sent him a message through his mime-magic.

"_Are you okay?"_ Jack's eyes went wide. _"Here, come with me. I'll help you."_ LeMime 'said', concerned. Without a word, Jack stood up and followed LeMime across the street to the nearly empty cafe and followed him in.

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><p><strong>Aaaaaaand there you have it! Next chapter, coming up next! Read on!<strong>


	2. A Little Help

**Hello, it's Dadles with chapter 2 of From Paris with Love I hope you liked chapter 1. Read and review!**

**(Disclaimer: Same as it was the last chapter. Do I really need to repeat myself? Come one, everyone knows that the creators of the stuff we watch don't have Fanfiction accounts here, and if they did, they wouldn't announce it!)**

**(#) = links**

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><p><em>Chapter 2: A Little Help…<em>

The cafe was just as Jack remembered it when he last visited Paris. LeMime led him to a window booth and sat him down with the banana-laden dessert in front of him. LeMime smiled and winked, pointing one finger up.

"_Eat it. It's free."_ Jack heard LeMime's voice in his head again. He didn't know why the mime was being so nice, but he decided not to worry too much about it. _Never look a gift horse in the mouth_, he thought, before he began to scarf down the dessert before him, while LeMime fixed up a cup of French cocoa.

LeMime looked at the redhead with concern. He hadn't seen the boy since he had left him to delay his enemies to retrieve a Shen-Gong-Wu. Yes, LeMime was beginning to remember...

Above all, however, LeMime recalled the beginnings of affection for the boy. As disturbed as the boy seemed right now, though, LeMime was still cautious. He would have to find out what was the matter, to bring the sad teen back to Paris.

Setting the cocoa down for Jack, LeMime settled into the booth opposite him. Now that he had a little something in his stomach, the Goth had definitely calmed down a bit. He was wiping away the remnants of his tears when he spoke.

"Thanks. You don't have to do this for me, but I appreciate it." LeMime smiled that eye-crinkling smile again for Jack. He made more miming motions, and Jack heard his voice inside his head again, a French and Parisian accent flowing throughout his words.

"_Would you like more? There is plenty to eat. I insist!"_

A little numb with confusion and shock at the voice in his mind, Jack ducked his head in shame and embarrassment. He wasn't above begging, when he needed to do it, but he still hated it. It made him feel vulnerable and weak and he didn't like being that way if he could help it.

LeMime, taking the reaction as an affirmative, stood and motioned for the woman again, this time giving her instructions to prepare an early dinner for both himself and Jack. Meanwhile, he grabbed a nearby tray of mini-sandwiches for Jack to munch on while he prepared.

Setting the tray down for Jack, LeMime went to the back of the cafe and unlocked the door hiding the steps to the upstairs rooms where he lived. He rifled around in his room a little bit and set a bathrobe aside, taking it to the bathroom with some towels and setting extra pillows and blankets in the guest bedroom.

When LeMime ventured back downstairs, Jack was almost done with the mini-sandwiches, head still ducked in shame. When LeMime had left, Jack had grudgingly accepted the gift with a bowed head. The woman left him alone, knowing full well how proud males could be. Jack was embarrassed to need help from the young man. Jack knew LeMime must be older than him. He remembered upon meeting him, when he was doing those annoying mime tricks, noting in the very back of his mind how the mime had a nice face, even with the white powder covering it, and an even nicer body, kept in shape with the man's constant physical activities.

However, to keep his evil image (what little there _was_ of it), he couldn't comment on these thoughts out loud, not only because they were compliments, but because they told of a hidden truth. Something that even Wuya didn't know. Something that he was sure he'd die for if the Xiaolin monks knew his secret: Jack was gay.

That was the reason he was currently homeless. He had confided in a journal (diaries are for girls; journals are for guys) he kept, and his father, on one of the very few times he and Jack's mother had been home with their son, had found it. Being nosy and wanting to know what was going on in his son's life, as is natural for most fathers, he had read the entire thing. He had discovered in the many entries the secret life that Jack Spicer: Evil Boy Genius had kept from his parents. The battles and the magic, the weapons and the Wu, his victories, his defeats, and everything in between that first day when Jack received Wuya's puzzle-box, to a moment five hours prior to Jack's parents' return home. Everything Jack felt, his opinions on life, morals, and of course, his thoughts on the subject of his sexuality. Of course he knew he was gay, and he had written about it, like a _dumbass_.

**_(Come on. Even _I _don't right down the thoughts of _my_ sexuality down on paper where there's the slight chance that my parents would read it. I've had LOADS of troubles with diaries in the past because of that.)_**

'_Why couldn't I have found a better hiding spot for it? Hell, why'd I even leave it out in the open like that?'_ Jack scolded himself inwardly. He knew the reason why; he didn't expect to see his parents home for another month or two. After all, they were almost never home anyway. Why should they come back on the _one day _that Jack decided to forget being paranoid and hide the journal like he normally did?

As Jack finished the last bite of sandwich and swallowed the last swig of cocoa, LeMime patted Jack's shoulder and thought/said, _"You're soaked and muddy, and doubtless cold and tired. I've a bath and a room ready for you upstairs. Follow me; and I won't take 'no' for an answer"_ LeMime added the last part as an added thought.

Accepting the mime's hospitality, Jack stood up from the booth and took LeMime's sleeve in between his fingers, looking away as LeMime led Jack to the hidden door in the back. Opening it, he gently pulled Jack in front of him and pushed him up the stairs, with a hand on his back to let him know that he was there. He opened the door at the top of the landing and ushered Jack in and to the bathroom.

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><p>The bathroom was brightly lit and warm. Many Parisian shampoos and soaps and bath salts lined the outside of the gorgeous claw foot tub. Fluffy towels hung on a rack near the tub, folded neatly and ready for use. A navy blue bathrobe hung on the hook beside the bath towels.<p>

"_Warm water, cold water,"_ LeMime said in Jack's head. He tapped the appropriate knobs. _"When you're done, dry off and put on the robe; I'll have your clothes washed and dried later. You can wear some of mine. I'm sure I still have some clothes that'll fit you."_

The mime's voice was a nice tenor, soft and smooth. His English was immaculate, despite the French accent. Jack thought about it as LeMime left him to his bath. It was a nice voice, and Jack was beginning to like that sultry tone dripping in his ears.

Jack began to strip. He piled his clothes in a basket nearby, removing the contents from his pockets and setting them aside. He turned the faucets on.

When the tub was filled with hot water and plenty of bath salts and soap suds, Jack climbed in, sighing with pleasure as the heat loosened his muscles. He soaked for a few minutes and let his eyes glaze over, just enjoying the sensation.

Curious as to what the mime was doing, Jack sat up and leaned over the edge of the tub, dripping water. He grabbed the Falcon's Eye and sat back in the tub. He put the Wu to his eye and activated it.

"Falcon's Eye" he whispered.

He could see through the walls of the house above the café. He looked down and saw many customers sipping coffee and tea and eating. Finding it disorienting to look down on them while naked in a tub above their heads, he decided to look around through the walls instead.

The building was a lot bigger than it seemed from the outside. The room that Jack was looking into at the moment was the kitchen, which was directly across from the bathroom door. The walls were a creamy yellow color. There were black granite counters lining the 3 walls, and white drawers and cabinets underneath. The whole kitchen was open; meaning that the main room and the kitchen had nothing to separate them. The shiny black tiles of the kitchen floor were the only transition markers between the two rooms, besides the wide opening in the wall. Off to the right was the stove top, which seemed to be outlined in a small, chrome counter, or some other shiny metal surface. At the main wall there was a double sink from the same material as the stove. Also at the main wall, where the counter met the wall, there was a single row of black and white checkered tile. Above the sink, spanning most of the wall, there was an additional set of white cupboards, with glass fronts. Jack could see dishes through them, in many different styles. Artful mugs lined the counters, a couple potters of herbs sat in the right corner next to the window, and a plate of pears beside them. The window was tall, reaching from the counter to the ceiling, and divided into 9 equal parts by simple panes.

In the center of the floor, there was a square table covered with a large white tablecloth that barely brushed the floor. Around it were 4 simple-looking chairs covered with what looked to be the same material as the table cloth, giving them a simple and unique look. A white, 2-tiered plate stand was filled with green apples and centered on the table. There was a simple place setting in front of each chair.

**(If you want to see a picture of what I just described, see the link posted at the bottom with a (1) next to it. I find it easier to write descriptions of things that I can actually _see_.)**

Jack's observation of this room lasted about 5 seconds before he zoomed out to the actual living room. As nice as the kitchen was, it was not the room that LeMime was occupying.

LeMime was busy straightening up pillows. The living room was wide and spacious, definitely fashionable and doubtless expensive. Jack wondered how LeMime afforded it, but dismissed the thought. He watched LeMime work while admiring the living arrangements.

The walls were a neutral toned green. The main focal point of the room was obviously the large set of double door windows that led to the large balcony. On either side of each door was another window that looked exactly like it, only they didn't open. Light and gauzy curtains that spilled lightly to the floor. Abundant sunlight filled the room and illuminated everything in a golden light.**(2)** The couch was antique. The cushions were neutrally gray. The arms and legs as well as the top of the sofa where artfully carved and gilded gold.**(3)** The back of the sofa was facing towards the kitchen. Angled slightly toward both the balcony doors and to sofa was a plush love seat. It was straight and light-weight, made of wood and painted white. The cushions were smooth and white and the back-rest was basket-woven.**(4)**

In the center of the floor was small, simple, antique, wooden coffee table, laden with books. On either side of the sofa were small end tables, with small simple table-lamps and a mug on beside one of them.

There were 2 armchairs in the room as well. One matched the loveseat perfectly**(4)**, while the other mimicked the sofa**(3)**. And everywhere, there were splashes of color. Scattered on the sofa, loveseat, and the 2 armchairs, there were random, multicolored, and differently patterned pillows of varying colors and shapes. Some were plain, some were patterned, but the ones that drew Jack's eye the most were the ones that were so intricately decorated that they could be considered art by themselves**(5)**. And LeMime was arranging them and straightening up.

Once again, these observations happened in the space of 5 seconds before Jack focused on LeMime and tracked him as he walked down a hall beside the bathroom and into a bedroom.

LeMime's room followed the same pattern as the rest of the house; simple but elegant and gorgeous. And almost certainly expensive.

The doorway to LeMime's room was directly adjacent to the position of the bathroom tub. Jack shifted around so it was easier to see. The walls were painted a rich golden yellow. Against the left wall from the door was LeMime's actual bed. It looked to be queen-sized and covering it was a comforter that was just a few shades darker than the walls, with a flat black-oak headboard centered against the wall. A black afghan was draped across the end of the bed and black pillows, embroidered with yellow thread, were fluffed and arranged neatly at the head of the bed. Straight ahead, (to the right of the bed if you were looking straight at it), there were 3 sets of tall windows. They didn't touch the floor like the ones in the living room did, but stood up about half a foot off the floor. Black gauzy curtains floated lazily in a soft breeze, the windows thrown open to let air in. A few paintings were on the walls and a dresser made from dark wood was pushed against the right wall (if you were standing in the doorway), straight across from the large bed. End tables on either side of the bed were also made from dark wood, with elegant lamps on top of each. The room was beautiful. _(Sorry, no links for this one. I made it up all by myself.)_

At the foot of the bed, there was a basket with a lid. This is what LeMime began to rifle through. Jack put the Falcon's Eye back with the Shroud of Shadows, setting it aside, and began to actually bathe, wondering why the mime had so many soaps and shampoos in stock.

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><p><strong>don't include the spaces in the links below. they're just so you can see the whole link, cos for some reason, fanfiction doesn't want you to.<strong>

**(1) Link: dadles . deviantart . ****com/#/d3jw60w**

**(2) Link: dadles . deviantart . com/#/d3jw6ov**

**(3) Link: dadles . deviantart . com/#/d3jw774**

**(4) Link: dadles . deviantart . com/#/d3jw7oq**

**(5) Link: dadles . deviantart . com/#/d3jw82e**


	3. A Little history Never Hurt, Right?

**Hello, tis me, Dadles, here with chapter 3! I hope the links worked out okay for you all. It took a LOT of tedious work to get them all so you could view them without trouble.**

**So in this chapter, we delve into the background of LeMime. I remember in Xiaolin Showdown, not much is known about him or his past. So I created one for him! I think you'll like it. Also, LeMime's orientation is _blatantly_ obvious by the way I've written some of his actions! (nothing mature. little kids wouldn't get it, at least. Besides, LeMime is a gentleman.)**

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><p><em>Chapter 3: A Little History Never Hurt, Right?<em>

When Jack finished with his bath, (good _GOD_, that was a ton of mud!), he dried off with the towels and slipped the bathrobe on around his shoulders. He debated reusing his underwear or trusting LeMime to provide for him, eventually deciding on the latter. After all, the mime had been kind so far and given him food and a bath and a place to stay, without even asking to know what was wrong. Jack remembered in the past that he had never been outright _mean_ or _cruel_ to the mime either, preferring to keep his displeasure at the mime's antics discrete and low-key rather than risk having them turned against him again. _(See Episode 3 for details)_ Jack decided to trust LeMime once more.

LeMime set out the final outfit on his bed. After discarding the rest because they wouldn't fit or look right on Jack, LeMime found his old clothes from when he was Jack's age. He recounted back to that time of being 17. He had had to overcome some difficulties at that age.

His family had been cursed for what seemed like forever. Every first-born son of each generation was born mute. They couldn't speak, couldn't make a sound. This caused a lot of trouble way back when people still believed strongly in demons and the like. Religious-freaks… Even now-a-days, the old traditions were still kept up in fear.

Long ago, the children and newborns were thought to be demons, or possessed by demons. They were killed, sometimes directly after they were born, when they cried without a sound. Those that were saved and were allowed to grow into toddlers and children still weren't out of harm's way. When they grew old enough, they developed special abilities and magic. Then those children too were destroyed. People don't like change. They don't like when what they think they know is challenged. They hate things that are different from them, things that aren't normal. The cursed children were smart, talented, and extremely different. They were the opposite of what was normal, and they paid the price. Murderers ran rampant throughout LeMime's family history. It sickened him.

LeMime's curse came from his mother's side. When she got married, she neglected to tell her husband about the family curse until after LeMime was born. When he discovered it, he attempted to kill his wife and son. Upon failure to do so, he fled. He had never returned, nor had he ever been found. LeMime grew up on his mother's stories of the curse; the stories told to her when she was young and her own personal experiences with the cursed children.

According to her, LeMime was one of the very few to be allowed to live, even with his power, which he'd gotten when he was 7. Most of the children were killed shortly after that age, because they only got stronger and smarter and that was the age most of them developed their powers.

LeMime wasn't the only cursed child to reach age of 10, but the only other child who had lived to be that old had run away before his parents could kill him when he got his powers. He had lived in the forest on his own for 3 years and developed the power to communicate with animals and even _through_ animals, which was how he was eventually caught. LeMime's mother had heard the story through one of her uncles, who had no children. He was one of the people who had hunted for the boy when he went missing, but for different reasons than the rest of the family.

That particular uncle wanted to save the boy. He wanted to rescue him from his terrible family and move someplace different so the boy could grow up and live. Even after the first month passed, and everyone else deemed the boy dead, that uncle had secretly searched. In the third year of the boy's disappearance, he made contact. The boy had the animals of the forest and the birds in the sky keeping watch for him during those three years. He had discovered his uncle's true intentions and made contact by sending a psychic message through a doe and her fawn. They had met face-to-face a few days after that, and they left the forest together. Unfortunately, the child's mother saw them leave the forest together. She took one look at him and knew without a doubt who he was, and when the uncle left the child hiding in the backseat of his car, the mother stole it and the child and drove off. She had driven it far away and murdered her son, then killed herself. The uncle felt guilty the rest of his life for putting the boy in harm's way. He eventually found the place where the boy had made his home in the forest and set up a little memorial for the boy.

Many stories had been passed down to LeMime through his mother. Evident throughout them all was that every single one of the cursed children died at a young age. LeMime was the only exception. His mother, after having close relations with two cursed children in her life, and hearing the stories of the others, was determined to change things. And she did. LeMime had out-lived every other cursed child and grown to adulthood.

There was a knock on the door and LeMime was shaken from his thoughts and memories back into reality. He turned. Jack was standing in the doorway, wearing the long bathrobe and looking sheepish. His hair, which had been towel-dried, hung a little limply around Jack's face, framing it.

LeMime smiled and handed Jack the folded clothes. His voice spoke again, _"Ah, there you are! Here, I've found some clothes for you. They should fit you more; I've had them since I was 17."_

Jack took the clothes from LeMime with a single nod.

"Um, you don't happen to have…underpants, do you?" he asked awkwardly. His face was beet red. LeMime, sensing the youth's embarrassment, smirked as he sauntered over and flipped open the folded pants in Jack's arms. A pair of boxers lay there and Jack nervously laughed and said, "Oh right. I'll, um, I'll go and, you know….dress."

Jack turned on his heel and ambled away and into the bathroom once more. LeMime watched as the teen left, eyes lingering a little on where Jack's butt was supposed to be. _'That robe is too long for him'_ he thought with a hint of distaste. Jack was too cute.

While Jack dressed, LeMime resumed his reminiscing.

His mother had made a family tree for him when he was younger, to help tell the stories of each relative. Although most ended tragically, his favorite stories were of his mother's days as a young child. Back when she was 5, she spent a lot of time with her elder cousin, who was one of the cursed. He had gray-blonde hair and green eyes and a pretty face. His mother had kept a picture of him. He went to church and was allowed to sit with the preacher. His father taught him and spent time with him. He wasn't allowed outside without his parents unless he was in the gardens in the back of the huge estate.

LeMime's mother would often be there in the gardens waiting for her cousin. She was always fascinated by the cursed child and he entertained her. They were close friends from a very young age.

The boy developed his powers shortly before he turned 7. They had grown quickly after that. LeMime's mother's favorite part about her cousin's gift was that he could show memories, thoughts, feelings, and even his own imaginations in the air. Sometimes she heard his voice; more often than not, though, he was silent, and only wrote in the air what he wanted to say. It was similar to how he communicated with his family, except for them he used pencil and paper.

Her cousin had taught her to read and write, and she showed her aunt so she would be proud and happy for her son. LeMime cried the first time he heard the story. The cousin's mother was not in the family by blood. The curse came from his father's side, and while the mother didn't murder or abandon her son when he was a baby, when she learned of the boy's powers, she panicked in fear. He was drowned in the bathtub that same night.

She was only 5 at the time; she didn't know what happened to the cursed children when they developed their abilities. No one had ever told her the whole truth; that the cursed children were 'cursed' because they all died young. Because they were all murdered. She never understood that her cousin's gifts were supposed to be secret. After the incident, her uncle, the one without children and who found the lost forest boy, told her the whole truth. Later in life, she'd spend much time with him and he would tell her all of the stories he knew about the cursed children. And she, in turn, passed them all down to LeMime.

When Jack reemerged from the bathroom, he was fully dressed. LeMime broke away from the dark turn of his thoughts to examine him.

Jack wore a double-sleeved shirt. It was like a normal T-shirt worn over a long-sleeved shirt, except it was all one, with the extra sleeves at the shoulders. The T-shirt part was solid black, hugging Jack's chest the way his red Frankenstein shirt did. The long sleeves were wide, and striped black and white in 3-inch thick lines. For pants, Jack just wore a pair of black jeans with a belt. They looked a lot like LeMime's, he noticed. Jack had taken off his fingerless gloves and his vintage goggles. He had the basket balanced on his hip and his dirty clothes bundled up in the middle of it. _(If you don't know what a double-sleeved shirt looks like, follow link _**(6)**_to see. This is NOT what Jack's shirt looks like. I made up the way it _**looks**_, not what it _**is**_.)_

LeMime reached for the basket of clothes and Jack handed it to him without a word. Jack was still embarrassed about the boxer thing and about needing help. LeMime gestured to Jack to follow him and then led him to the living room. Jack sat on the couch while LeMime took care of his clothes.

When he returned, Jack was flipping through a book titled _William Shakespeare, Richard Barnfield, and the Sixth Earl of Derby_, written by Leo Daugherty.

"_You may stay as long as you wish."_ Jack jumped. He hadn't heard LeMime as he walked behind him.

"Um, thanks," he muttered, closing the book. He held it up. "Shakespeare?"

"_More specifically the links between Barnfield and Shakespeare. Richard Barnfield and Shakespeare share the distinction of being the only poets in Elizabethan and Jacobean England who published love poems addressed to another male. It's a very revealing book."_ LeMime said. Jack set the book down.

LeMime smiled that eye-crinkling smile again as he sat in the loveseat. He leaned against the armrest closest to Jack.

"_Now that you have been properly taken care of, tell me: What brings you back to Paris?"_

"I'm kinda in trouble. I don't have any place to stay or any friends, and I doubt anyone would understand my situation anyway if I did." The words struck a chord in LeMime's memories. He remembered feeling exactly the same way about something he had discovered about himself long ago.

When he realized it, he had felt horrible. All he could think about was his poor mother. She was everything to him; she was all he truly had. And as a 14-year-old boy who was cursed anyway, he was terrified. All those stories about parents who murdered their children kept him from 'speaking' sooner. He felt like he didn't belong, that he was unworthy of the life that his mother had granted him. The life that she had every right to extinguish. Of course, LeMime knew that those thoughts were only born out of fear; he knew his mother would never do the things her family had.

But his mother had understood. She convinced him to tell her what was wrong and he did. She had understood, and she even knew it before he himself had! Although it wasn't really a surprise. She had had a bond with 2 cursed children; who was to say she wouldn't have one with another, who was her own son, at that? LeMime had realized then that he wasn't the only one gifted. His mother had a her own special way of just _knowing_ things.

"_What is the trouble?"_ LeMime asked. His voice echoed through Jack's head. Jack fidgeted a little more, clasping his hands tightly together at his knees. He was saved from having to answer right then, because at that moment, there was a knock on the door.

LeMime grimaced slightly and got up to answer the door. When he returned, he carried a tray with 2 plates of spaghetti and a basket of bread sticks. He placed the tray on the table with a sheepish grin.

"_You don't have to eat it if you don't want to. I wanted to make sure you had enough to eat, though."_ He picked a breadstick and munched on it. Jack went to eat the spaghetti, speaking as he stirred it.

"It's okay. I haven't had a decent meal for a few days." LeMime nodded, encouraging Jack to continue.

"My dad found my journal and read it. I wasn't expecting him or my mother to come home that day. Most of the time, they live in separate hotels and the like on business trips. They're _never_ home. So when they came home, my journal was sitting out in the open. Anyway, Dad read it and discovered my secrets. He and Mother do not approve of me taking after my grandmother with 'evil' and such, which I'm not very good at or even really cut out for anyways. They didn't like that I was using _their_ money to pay for robots and parts, or getting involved with crime bosses. They thought I was going insane when I wrote about the Xiaolins and magic and Shen-Gong-Wu. But all of that they could deal with. They could just ground me, send me to jail or a boarding school, or get me 'professional help'. But they found out I was gay. They threw me out and called me a disgrace, they wouldn't let me have any of my stuff, and threatened to have me arrested if I returned. I didn't get to grab most of the Wu I was in possession of, either." LeMime was stunned. Jack had the same problem _he_ did when he was 14!

"Wuya doesn't like me and she doesn't even have her own place to stay, so it's not like I could go to her for help. Chase doesn't like me either, and wouldn't let me stay with him. Besides, he still has Wuya to worry about, because she's staying with him and tends to be a back-stabbing bitch. He can't afford to have her out of his sight, which is why he keeps her so close. Katnappe hates my guts, and I'm sure she'd try to experiment on me when I sleep if I stayed with her. Her parents and my parents know each other, and they talk, so she probably already knows about me. I'll be lucky if she doesn't blab to everyone else. Of course, it just figures that _her_ parents are understanding. She's spoiled and gets everything she wants. She's 16 and her parents let her have surgery to get cat ears and a cat tail! But whatever. I can't stand Tubbimura, and I don't even know where he is. Grandmother is dead; I'd stay with her if she was alive. I even went to the Xiaolins. But they kicked me out before I could even plead my case! I don't blame them; the last time they let me stay with them, I turned on them in the end. Omi was just too much for me. I went to them 3 times, each time getting my ass handed to me, before I finally quit. I didn't even fight them or attack; I tried to defend myself but I don't think they noticed. Then a Shen-Gong-Wu revealed itself in Venice, Italy, and I got my ass handed to me AGAIN, and in front of Chase and Wuya. There's nothing really there for me back home. I'm sick of the whole Xiaolin-Heylin conflict and I figured I'd try to start over in Paris. I don't know how I'm supposed to do that though."

LeMime sat calmly and collectively. On the inside, though, part of him was outraged at the way Jack was treated, part of him was sad that Jack had terrible parents and no friends or allies, part of him felt pity for him, and part of him was happy that Jack ended up here in Paris with LeMime.

"_I understand,"_ LeMime finally said. He patted Jack's knee. _"I was lucky. My mother was understanding enough. She knew even before I fully did and she didn't begrudge me any for it. If it's any comfort to you, just know that I'm here for you. And like I said; you can stay as long as you like."_

Now it was Jack's turn to be shocked.

"You—you're…gay? I thought you might kick me out, but…wow." LeMime chuckled in Jack's head.

"_Surprised? You don't think it was obvious by just looking at me?"_

"No. You just look like a mime to me."

"_Yes, you would think that. I think it's a good cover, actually. But not for being homosexual. If you're living here, there's something you need to know. It is physically impossible for me to utter a sound. That's why I'm a mime: I'm a mute. It's the way I live, even if some people think it's 'annoying'."_

Jack blushed and looked sheepish. "Heh, yeah, sorry. So how do you do the mind thing?" Jack asked. LeMime's eyebrows went up and he leaned back, getting comfortable in the loveseat.

"_The thought-speech? It's an acquired talent. I use it to communicate with people, since I can't actually talk."_

"Then why didn't you use it when we met before?" Jack asked. LeMime only shrugged and smiled.

"_I thought you were only a tourist. I didn't need to 'talk' because I'm a mime; I can communicate without words just fine."_ Jack thought for a moment, then asked, "Why'd you come bother me at the café that day, anyway?"

LeMime smiled and said through his thought-speech, _"Honestly? I bug most of my customers. They tolerate it because it's entertaining for everyone. Didn't you notice how many people were watching when I had you roped that time? There's a reason my café is prosperous, besides great food and service. But that's beside the point. I was bothering you because I thought you were the cutest. You are by far the most uniquely decorated person I have ever met."_ This last remark succeeded in getting another shocked look and a blush from Jack.

"Such cheek…" Jack muttered, and LeMime grinned.

After they had finished their meal, the two ventured back downstairs. Jack sat in the window seat and read _The Idiot's Guide To Learning French_ that LeMime was kind enough to loan him. With his unnaturally pale skin, vibrant, red, spiky hair, and all-together chic look, as well as a relatively innocent expression on his face, Jack attracted more and more passers-by into the café. They were curious about the boy learning French in the window.

The woman at the counter smiled and whispered (in French) to LeMime as he passed, "I like him. He attracts customers very fast. Are you planning on keeping him?" The woman winked and smiled broadly at him. She knew about LeMime's…preferences.

LeMime gave her a knowing look. _"If luck will let me,"_ is all he said in return, before he took a coffee and went to sit with Jack. The woman smiled after him; it was about time someone tried to break her curse.

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><p><strong>At the beginning, I was wondering... Does anyone out there <em>really<em> reuse their underwear? If you had to choose between reusing your dirty underwear after a bath or trusting someone you barely know to provide for you, which would you choose? I expect answers!**

**(6) Link dadles . deviantart . com/gallery/30778466#/d3jxtxa**


	4. Mimes Aren't So Bad After All

**Hello people! Dadles here with yet another chapter of From Paris with Love. I hope everyone like the last chapter, A Little History Never Hurt, Right? So we learned a little of LeMime's family history. In this chapter, there will be some French speaking going on (Don't worry, I provide translations for all of them!) If you speak French and find that the phrases are wrong, don't blame me, blame iGoogle Translator. I think it's awesome, cos I just type what I want said and it automatically translates it for me so I can copy+paste. Shortcuts ROCK! Anyway, You get to see Jack and LeMime bonding a little bit near the end. Happy readings and Review!**

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><p><em>Chapter 4: Mime's aren't so bad after all<em>

As the rest of the day passed, customers came and went in the endless pattern of modern day consumerism. Many tried to speak to Jack, but after five hours, the only phrase he had learned to where he didn't need the book was—

"Je ne parle pas Français." _(I don't speak French)_ Jack said to the young woman trying to speak to him. She pouted and walked away. Jack sighed. He had lost count of the number of women (and men!) who had spoken to him in hopes of holding a conversation.

Ears pricking slightly at the giggles behind him, Jack half turned to peer around behind him. About 2 hours earlier, a group of highschool girls had walked in, ordered drinks, and sat in the booth behind him. They continually laughed and talked behind their hands. Catching his eye, the girls immediately dissolved into giggles once again.

Jack turned away, grimacing. Those girls had been there for 2 hours watching him and literally talking behind his back. After listening to their foreign babbling for the first hour, Jack had skipped ahead in the book to look up some of the phrases that came up repeatedly in the girls' conversations.

Jack frowned when he began to hear the phrases yet again.

"Il est tellement adorable!"

"J'aime ses cheveux."

"Est-il un nouveau mime?"

"Je me demande si il va à l'école."

"Peut-être qu'il s'agit d'un échange d'étudiants étrangers."

In English, the phrases translated to 'He's so adorable!', 'I like his hair', 'Is he a new mime?', 'I wonder if he goes to our school', and 'Maybe he's a foreign exchange student'.

When they started in on him again, Jack exhaled a little and shifted some papers around; he had been making notes. Finding the words he wanted to say and converting the translation into French was easy enough. He had been waiting to use the phrases on the girls and had double checked to make sure his enunciation was correct.

Jack turned around and faced the girls. "Je vous entends. Juste parce que je ne parle pas la langue ne signifie pas que je ne peux pas apprendre. J'apprécierais si vous voulez arrêter de parler de moi. Il est extrêmement rude." Translated to English, what he had said was "I can hear you. Just because I don't speak the language doesn't mean that I can't learn. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop talking about me. It's extremely rude."

One of the girls reacted by saying, "Nous sommes désolés. Nous ne savions pas que vous pourriez comprendre. Je sais que c'est pas une excuse, à nouveau, je m'en excuse. Nous allons essayer de baisser le ton. Mais si vous n'avez pas l'esprit, je demande quel est votre nom?" It took a few moments for Jack to decode what she just said. _(We're sorry. We didn't know you could understand. I know that is no excuse, so again, I apologize. We'll try to keep it down. But if you don't mind, may I ask what your name is?)_

"Mon nom est Jack" _(My name is Jack.)_ The girls, placated, nodded and resumed conversing about other topics. Satisfied with his work, Jack returned to his studies.

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><p>When closing time came, LeMime sat down once again in front of Jack. He had watched the boy working on his French and was pleasantly surprised to find that he learned <em>very<em> quickly. He had laughed internally to himself when Jack had spoken with the girls and extracted an apology from one of them. Now, as the last customer exited the café, LeMime gestured for Jack to stop his studies.

"I think it'd be easier if I had an actual teacher instead of learning on my own," Jack said, closing his book. He stood and stretched, and LeMime had the sudden inexplicable urge to wrap an arm around that slender waist. He quelled it with little difficulty.

"_Do you think you could repeat that whole phrase in French?"_ LeMime asked. Jack paused and his face screwed up in thought, trying to translate.

"Je pense qu'il serait plus facile si j'avais un professeur réelle au lieu d'apprendre par moi-même…?" he tried. LeMime grinned and patted Jack's back approvingly.

"_That is exactly correct!"_ LeMime praised. _"You learn very quickly! I'm surprised." _He and Jack went upstairs.

For a few hours, each did their own thing. Across from the couch, LeMime had a large screen TV, and Jack flipped through a few channels, entertaining himself by trying to decode what was being said as fast as possible. He didn't really understand much, but he found himself amused to no end just trying. LeMime sat on the balcony and enjoyed listening to Jack goof around in the living room. He tried to read a book, but found much more amusement in Jack's antics.

Just for fun, LeMime sent his internal voice to Jack again, to see if he could translate in the spur of the moment.

"_Soyez grand dans l'acte que vous avez été dans la pense"_ Jack paused in this intrusion of television amusement and worked to translate it. In three seconds flat, the fastest he'd translated yet, he spoke loud enough for LeMime to hear, "'Be great in act as you have been in thought.' How much Shakespeare do you know, exactly?"

"_I'll admit, I know a great deal of it. I studied him when I was younger."_

"Really? Why?"

"_I don't really know. I guess there's something romantic about the way Shakespeare wrote. There's a sort of music to the way everything sounds spoken aloud. Like, 'And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of'. I like to think about what Shakespeare really means. You have to translate his words into modern speech, much like how you translate English to French and vice versa."_

Jack turned the TV off and walked out onto the balcony. LeMime turned and leaned back on the balcony with his elbows, facing Jack. Jack admired the view before turning and leaning like LeMime on the edge of the ledge.

"_Do you know Shakespeare Jack?"_ LeMime asked. Jack nodded.

"For like, 3 months, it was all I read. Like a phase I went through. I took the time to appreciate it though. I've got a sharp mind; I memorized a lot."

"_Really? Show me."_ LeMime prompted. He nudged Jack's shoulder with his own, smiling.

"'I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.'"

" '_My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.'"_

"Nice one. How about this: 'Friendship is constant in all other things save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent.'"

"_Much Ado About Nothing, Act 2, Scene 1. I like it!"_ LeMime congratulated. _"So you've read the plays. See if you know this one: 'They say, best men are moulded out of faults, and, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad.' Go on, try."_

"Psh! That one's easy! _Measure for Measure_, Act 5, Scene 1." Jack answered immediately.

Before long, night had fallen, and Jack realized that he and LeMime had been talking for hours. When he realized it, he looked up suddenly, just seeing the stars. LeMime noticed too, and looked up. The city lights drowned most of them out, but he could just barely see the brightest ones.

"_Time to go to bed. I haven't exactly shown you your room yet either. Come on, let's go in."_ LeMime led Jack back inside and closed and locked the doors behind him. He showed Jack his new room.

The room looked almost exactly like LeMime's did, Jack noticed. There were considerably less personal objects, though, and the coloring was different. Whereas LeMime's room focused on yellow and black, Jack's room was blue and white. The walls were painted sky blue and had fluffy clouds painted on the walls. The ceiling was blue too; dark royal blues and swirls of violet and indigo and what seemed to be every shade between them all. Painted among the colors were many tiny spots of white, scattered everywhere so it looked like the Milky Way. **(7)**

The covers on the bed were blue, the pillows white, and the two circular end tables covered in white cloth. There were lamps on each table, just like in LeMime's room as well. There was blue carpeting on the floor. LeMime's was cream colored, Jack remembered. And while LeMime's curtains were black, Jack's were white, although there were shades attached behind them at the top to block out sunlight.

Did he really put so much effort to make his home beautiful? Jack thought. LeMime set a pair of flannel pajamas on the bed for Jack and turned to leave.

"_Your things are inside the end table to the left. Good night, Jack, and sweet dreams. I'll see you in the morning."_

LeMime closed the door behind him as he left Jack to change. Unfolding the pjs, Jack saw that they, too, were light blue; the same as the room. He stripped and changed into them before checking the bedside table on the left. Opening it, he saw the Falcon's Eye and the Shroud of Shadows, along with his snacks and Wu tracker. He picked up the Falcon's Eye and activated it to see what LeMime was doing.

He was going around, turning lights off in the rest of the house. Then he entered his own room, right besides Jack's, and closed the door. He took his shirt off quickly and Jack wrenched the Wu away from his eye, blushing madly. He wasn't fast enough to stop himself from seeing LeMime's slender chest without clothing. He didn't want to intrude on his privacy _that_ much! But he couldn't help thinking about it now, as he put the Wu back and pulled back the covers. That lightly muscled, evenly tone, even somewhat tanned, perfect torso…

'_Stop thinking about it!'_ Jack chastised himself in his thoughts. Instead, as he turned his lamp off and climbed into bed, he thought about how quickly his terrible day had changed into a surprisingly good one. He now had a decent (way more than decent!) place to stay, plenty of good, delicious food, ample entertainment, a task, and of course, a new friend. And he was sure tomorrow would be better.

"Good night!" he called out to LeMime.

In his own bed, LeMime turned onto his left side and smiled, sending his voice to say, "_Good night, Jack."_ before closing his eyes.

Jack heard and turned onto his right side, smiling and already falling asleep. His last thought before he succumbed to slumber was, _'Huh. __Mimes aren't so bad after all…'_

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><p><strong>Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnd, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed! See link (7) below to se what Jack's ceiling probably looks like.<strong>

**(7) Link: dadles . deviantart . com/art/Link-7-Galaxy-214897102**

Remember: Don't include the spaces in the link posted above.


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